


Ghost Story

by palecrimsongoddess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Dresden Files Fusion, Ghosts, M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palecrimsongoddess/pseuds/palecrimsongoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was really looking forward to a fresh start in Beacon Hills.  No one here knew him as the crazy kid who "thought" he could see ghosts, and he had no plans to enlighten people.  So when their new house just happens to contain the most annoying spirit, who just won't go away things get a bit more... exciting then he was hoping for.</p><p>Or the one where Peter has been a wandering spirit for the past seventeen years and Stiles is the first (only) person who he can communicate with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SassySteter (Sterekismyotp)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sterekismyotp/gifts).



> Although the tags say "Dresden Files fusion" this story is mainly teen wolf characters set in the Dresden Files verse, with a cameo from a minor character in Dresden Files. Basically I borrowed Dresden Files' lore on ghosts and people who can see them.

Stiles could pinpoint the moment in time when he began to see spirits. It all started when his mother was sick and dying of a rare form dementia. He spent a lot of time in the hospital with her, way more than was healthy for ten year old. As he saw her wasting away, he began to notice a kind of glow around her. He would see it in a lot people at the hospital, and would later identify it as a signal that the individual with such a glow was going to pass soon. The first ghost he saw was his own mother’s as she kissed him gently on the forehead before moving on into the light he supposes. It’s not as if she could tell him after everything was said and done.

That was six years ago, and his abilities have only gotten stronger and more attuned. Through his thorough research and experience he was now able to tell the difference between a spirit and a shade. A spirit, like his mother’s, was a person’s essence, their soul if you will; a shade was just an imprint, usually caused by a violent death, and could be exercised away. Shades were dangerous if left unchecked, and could evolve into poltergeists while spirits could usually be gently guided into the light.

Stiles sighed dramatically as he continued unpacking his belongings in the new house his dad bought. His father had just accepted a promotion to Sheriff with the only catch being that said promotion was in Beacon Hills, California. Having nothing to tie them down to Boston, his father accepted and thus began the cross country move. The teen plopped down on the floor for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck, resolutely not looking at the spirit in the corner of the room.

The spirit was a boy, close to his age from the glimpse he had gotten and had dark hair with bright blue eyes. Said spirit was also staring at him, and making random commentary as unpacked his stuff making it that much harder to ignore the bastard.

He kept hearing commentary on everything from his clothing choices to his action figures and it was really starting to piss him off.

“Really? Plaid… _again_. I swear, it’s almost like you don’t care what you look like. No wonder you’re single.” 

“Who says I’m single, and why the hell do you care anyway?” The moment the words left his mouth, Stiles wished he could take them back because now? Now the spirit knew he could see it.

The boy walked around to stand in front of him, and now that he really got a good look at the other, Stiles would admit he was quite handsome. He definitely seemed like he would have had a better fashion sense than Stiles… were they in the late 90s that is. He had the whole grunge look going, but less dirty.

“You… you can hear me?” Stiles sighed and nodded affirmatively.

“I can see you too. Now can you please go, I’m trying to unpack and you’re bugging me.” The boy in question seemed to hear nothing beyond ‘I can see you’ otherwise he wouldn’t look so damned elated. Shit.

“No, this is… you’re the first person who I’ve met that could see me since… well this.” The young man crouched in front of him, smirking slightly. “I need your help.”

Now it was Stiles’ turn to look utterly unimpressed as he said, “pass,” in a bored tone. It was almost worth it for how pissed the spirit looked at him now. Stiles just quirked an eyebrow in response. He was so done helping spirits it wasn’t even funny.

“What the hell do you mean ‘pass’? As loathe as I am to admit it you are the only one who can help me.”

Sighing, Stiles looked up at him. “You want help? Fine. Cross over and leave me the hell alone! I’m done dealing with ghosts.” This was a new start in a new town where he wasn’t known as the freak who thought he could see ghosts or talked to himself all the time. Stiles wanted to start off on the right foot, and that most emphatically did not involve helping an asshole ghost. 

The spirit, whose name he still didn’t know, crossed his arms glared at Stiles. His eyes briefly flashed yellow, great a werewolf spirit, before he spoke again. “I’m not dead.” Stiles couldn’t help it. He laughed.

“Really? You’re not dead? You just, what, decided that having an out of body experience would be enriching?” He shook his head at the epic bitchface the werewolf spirit gave him. “Look, in my experience, it’s easier on everyone if you just realize that: yes you are dead, and yes it is time to move on. So go towards the light, or whatever, I’m busy unpacking.”

“As a matter of fact, I did decide to have an out of body experience. And while it has been most informative, I would quite like to re inhabit my body after being apart from it for seventeen years.”

Stiles could feel a migraine forming behind his eyes. “Look…” He gestured with one hand towards the spirit.

“Peter”

“Peter,” he repeated, “Even if you’ve been in some kind of…” Stiles gestured wildly with his hands as he tried to think of the right word. “... Coma… Your body has to be, what? Forty years old? Not to mention the atrophy to your muscles, including possible brain damage. Dude, are you even sure that your body is alive? I know spirits can have a crappy concept of time…”

Peter rolled his eyes hard, “I am not forty, I’m thirty four thanks for asking, and my body should be fine. Magic induced coma and all. Now if you could just-”

“Dude, if it’s magic induced go see a witch or something. Leave me out of this.” The last thing Stiles wanted to do was piss off whatever witch or fae had cursed this guy. Besides, what if Peter was a bad guy? The curse had to be for a reason.

Peter got a pinched expression on his face before responding. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, I’m not going anywhere, so you may as well get used to me being here…” 

The teen trailed off and looked at him expectantly. Sighing he rolled his eyes and said, “Stiles.” 

“Stiles,” he practically purred and Stiles had to suppress a shiver, “I’ll see you around, and hopefully you change your mind… after all I’ve got nothing but time.” He knew it was wishful thinking to hope that Peter would just leave him alone, but he could still hope right?

* * *

“No, again. Honestly, Stiles, do you care at all for your appearance?” Stiles might have found how absolutely exasperated Peter sounded funny if he wasn’t so damn pissed. Of all the spirits that could have picked to haunt him on arrival in Beacon Hills, he had to get the fashionista one. God save him from ‘fashion forward werewolf ghosts’.

“What the hell is wrong with what I’m wearing?” He ignored the growl as he put on the plaid shirt that Peter had vetoed four times. It was just school for Christ’s sake! 

“Stiles, you shouldn’t be asking what is wrong, but rather what isn’t wrong. But by all means, go to school looking like a homeless person.” Every damn morning they had this conversation for the past two weeks.

“If I agree to help you, will you lay off the comments?” And the random heart attack inducing popping out of nowhere, the misplacing of random things, oh Stiles could go on forever. The past two weeks have been complete hell and if he had to help one measly, annoying ghost to make it stop; he was more than ready.

The other gave him a blinding grin with a hint of mischievousness, “Are you agreeing?” At Stiles’ reluctant nod Peter continued with, “I’ll see you after school to get started.” Then he disappeared. Peter did that sometimes.

It was only after the spirit had left that Stiles realized that he had never agreed to stop being a dick. “Son of a bitch!”

* * *

School passed without incident, and true to his word, Peter didn’t reappear until he was driving home. “So, I bet you’re curious as to how I got stuck like this.”

Stiles flailed and swerved his car narrowly missing another car who honked loudly. “Jesus Christ, Peter! Make some goddamn noise when you appear!”

He could practically hear the eyeroll in Peter’s voice as he tried to catch his breath. “I did make noise, dear. I asked if you were curious as to how I got stuck like this.” Chancing a glance at Peter, he saw the bastard grinning. Prick.

“Well, if you want me to help you, then knowing how this happened would be an excellent start.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Peter nod his head in agreement.

“You’ve heard of the Hales, right?” Stiles nodded while keeping his eyes on the road. The Hales were the oldest family in Beacon Hills and they practically owned the town. Hell, his classmate Cora’s mother, Talia Hale, was the mayor of Beacon Hills. “Well, I’m Peter Hale. So, once we find how to get me,” he pauses, gesturing to himself, “back into my body… we need to tell them because they can help us find it.”

Stiles paled a bit at the thought of having to deal with the Hales. They were terrifying as all get out, especially Cora and her older brother who sometimes picked her up from school. But not only that, they had a group of random followers who were just as terrifying, and he was pretty sure the blonde kept hitting on him. A thought hit Stiles as he was contemplating how complicated his ‘fresh start’ had just gotten.

“Wait. If you’re a Hale, does that mean the other Hales are werewolves as well?” He could see the boy grin out of the corner of his eye. The spirit reached over and passed his hand through Stiles cheek, making the boy shiver.

“Smart boy,” he purred before leaning back into the seat. Stiles was just preparing to alter his course to the library before he realized what Peter said earlier.

“Wait, what do you mean find your body? I thought…”

“What that my family had it? Now, now dear where would be the fun in that?” Ignoring his better judgement he turned to face Peter with a deep frown on his face. “After all, what’s life without a little… adventure?” 

The asshole was enjoying the hell out of this based on the grin he directed at the teen driving. Stiles was not amused with this new development. He figured he would put in a call to his contact in Chicago, who helped him when he first realized his gift. Maybe Morty would be able to make heads or tails of this mess. “I don’t like the sound of that at all”

Peter just laughed at him. Asshole.

* * *

Morty wasn’t able to help too much with his current case. While his contacts knew where the Hale’s body was, and even who did this to him; they weren’t talking. Apparently whoever did this to Peter was more scary than Mr. Lindquist. Great.

He was, however, able to tell Stiles that the being responsible for separating Peter’s spirit from his body was a Sidhe, and a high ranking one at that. Stiles day just kept getting better and better.

The teen was currently pouring over some ancient book written in archaic latin to see if he could identify which Sidhe had Peter’s body. After all, knowing was half the battle. This particular tome had more information on which kind of Sidhe (most likely winter court) would have made such a deal, but Beacon Hills ‘supernatural branch’ of the library didn’t have as much as Boston’s did. Every library had a ‘supernatural’ area, by the way, you just had to know where to look and how to spot a veil. A story for another time.

Glancing over at the ghost-wolf, Stiles can tell he was just upset by the lack of information in yet another book. It seemed like everywhere he turned was another dead end. Why couldn’t this just be a normal case of ‘see the light? Go there!’ Sighing dramatically, Stiles bangs his head against the desk.

“You seem a bit frustrated… Perhaps I can help?” Stiles bolted upright, startled by the unfamiliar voice. He looked up at the sagely dark skinned man who spoke. Reaching out his ‘sense’, the teen was able to feel the curl of magic along the other. The man looked surprised as he felt the same from Stiles.

“I’m sure there isn’t anything you can do to help this problem.” As he spoke he glared at Peter and a strange look passed over the other man’s face before he spoke. 

“I run the local vet clinic and am in need of a helper. You could stop by and apply… I’m sure the sheriff would like if his son was occupied and out of trouble.” Stiles gave the man a suspicious look as he pulled out a business card and placed it on the table in front of the teen. “Stop by my office, and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

When the man is well out of sight, he side eyed Peter. “Is he part of your family’s pack or just weird?” Peter just narrowed his eyes at the space the man previously occupied.

“I see my sister go into his office all the time but I can’t get passed the wards. I’m fairly certain he’s our emissary although…” Stiles merely raised an eyebrow and waited for the other teen to continue. “Their identities are kept secret from everyone other than the alpha and the second… so I have no legitimate proof.”

Stiles flipped the business card in his hand before pocketing it and continuing to research. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to contact Dr. Deaton just yet, but he probably would be doing so pretty soon. For the first time since Peter decided to haunt Stiles, there was an eerie quiet. The teen was not fond of it.

* * *

Ok, Stiles might have been just a wee bit paranoid, but ever since he had that strange conversation with Deaton in the library; he could swear he felt someone watching him at school. Just that feeling of the hair on the back of his neck sticking up, the tingling.

As he drifted through the day he noticed the Hales and their friends seemed to always have an eye on him, in shared classes. Everything from Cora’s glare to the sultry look that Erica gave him, making him a tad uncomfortable. From the phantom growl he heard, he assumed Peter didn’t like it either.

He decided to skip the cafeteria and spend lunch in the library to avoid them sitting and staring at him. The plan was foolproof. Or it would have been, had they not just followed him into the library and blatantly stared at him from across the room.

He was just glad they hadn’t decided it was necessary to speak to him yet. It wasn’t like he could lie to a werewolf, and he somehow doubted they wanted to hear how he could see the spirit of their undead uncle.

Yeah, he was so screwed.

* * *

“Stilinski, right?”

Hearing his name, Stiles turned around to see Cora Hale. He gulped nervously; to think he had almost made it to his jeep unscathed. “That’s me! Yup, Stiles Stilinski, but you can call me Stiles.” 

He holds out a hand, awkwardly, that she pointedly does not shake, until he brings said hand up to rub the back of his neck. “Was there something you needed?”

“You’re going to sit with us tomorrow.” 

Before Stiles could protest she stalked off towards a black camaro, with a scruffy man in a leather jacket leaning against it. Must be her elusive brother, the wet dream of all the suburban housewives in Beacon Hills.

“I know for a fact that my sister taught those kids better manners than that.” Stiles jumped about a foot in the air at Peter’s sudden appearance and scowled at the unimpressed eyebrow raise he received for his trouble. He may or may not have cursed the spirit, although he certainly missed the looks Cora and her brother gave him.

Peter, the observant bastard, noticed the looks but refrained from saying anything. After all a good poker player never revealed their hand.

* * *

Apparently everybody knew everybody in a small town. That being said, someone found out about the vet’s offer of a job to Stiles and it got back to his father. The man all but glared at the teen until he agreed that he would take the damn job, with minimal argument.

To be completely honest, Peter also thought it would be a good idea to collaborate with the vet if he was the emissary. If not, it would be a giant waste of time that he would make Peter regret talking him into.

This was how Stiles found himself, sans Peter due to the wards, working with animals in Dr. Deaton’s clinic. It was… relaxing. He was even meeting people who weren’t dead, like his coworker Scott. Stiles didn’t even need to extend his senses to tell the teen was a werewolf. He wasn’t exactly subtle, plus the cats hated him.

He liked Scott well enough, even if Peter did get super bitchy when he hung out with the other teen. Whatever, it’s not like a spirit can play CoD so Peter could suck it. 

Currently he was helping Scott clean Kennels in the back. “So… any idea why Cora invited me to the table of doom?” Invited was a gross understatement. Forced is more like it. A flurry of emotions flitted across the boy’s face before he responded.

“She looks out for loners… All of us, we know what it’s like being an outcast.” The other teen got shifty eyed for a moment before continuing. “Everyone needs friends.” Scott gave him one last dopey smile before going back to cleaning Kennels.

Stiles sighed, figuring that Scott was once again trying and failing to be subtle about the ‘werewolf thing’ and dropped it.

* * *

“So, Stiles how are you adjusting?” The doctor was giving his patented serene smile, Stiles distrusted him more for it.

“Fine, I guess… Everyone’s been really nice to us.” The teen shrugged as he continued gathering his stuff. As he turned to leave, he found Deaton holding out an old looking, leather bound book. Stiles accepted it, looking questioningly at the doctor.

“My collection is more… specialized than what the library has to offer.” Deaton, serene smile still in place, looked pointedly at the book in Stiles’ hand. “I trust you’ll take good care of it?”

The teen stammered out an affirmative answer before gingerly putting it away and heading back home. Peter kept giving him questioning looks the whole car ride home, but otherwise didn’t say much. Good.

* * *

Despite the odd looks Peter had given him, the wolf spirit said nothing about the book. The two of them were now sitting in relatively companionable silence as Stiles drove the jeep to school. 

This had become quite the regular routine for the two of them, although usually Stiles filled the silence with inane chatter.

The teen put his jeep in park before grabbing his backpack, feeling the the cool tingle as a ghostly hand encircled his wrist. With a raised eyebrow, and elevated heart beat, Stiles turned to Peter.

The ghost's eyes flickered to his chest briefly before looking him in the eye again. "Be careful. My family can be persuasive, and if they find out about me before we're ready..." The wolf spirit trailed off before disappearing.

Sighing, Stiles muttered under his breath about stupid spirits needing to be less mysterious. 

"Hey man, what's up?"

Stiles turned to see his coworker, Scott, approaching him with a friendly smile and a wave. He also saw Cora glaring at them from her spot near Erica. 

"Nothing much, just worried about chemistry today is all." 

Scott gave Stiles a sympathetic look, "I don't know why Mr Harrison is such a dick to you."

The teen shrugged as he started walking to his locker, "eh, he's kind of a dick to everybody."

The beta nodded in agreement, "well yeah, he just seems worse to you though."

Stiles figured it had something to do with the strange magic interference that came off of Harris, though he couldn't say for certain. Still, best to play it off, "maybe he just hates that I'm new and so far behind?" 

The look of outrage on Scott's puppy face was adorable, "whatever. Haters gonna hate."

Scott smiled at him brightly before nodding and heading off to homeroom.

* * *

Class with Harris was about as aggravating as Stiles figured it would be, right to the point where he was issued after school detention for breathing too loud. Exhaling sharply through his nose, the teen aggressively threw his books into his backpack before stalking out of the classroom as fast as his long legs could carry him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the nasty look Harris shot him, as Scott ran after him.

“Hey, Stiles! Wait up, man!” Rolling his eyes skyward, the teen slowed to a walk as he put on his best “friendly” face. Judging by the look of pity Scott shot at him, it wasn’t a very good one.

"Dude, I can't believe he just did that?" Scotty was so adorable in his righteous fury as they exited chemistry.

With a shrug Stiles answered, "what can I say? I just have that effect on people." The teen let out a frustrated sigh as they continued walking down the hall.

“It’s okay, bro,” Scott said with a friendly pat on the back, “we can always go tee pee his house later if it makes you feel better…” Now that did sound like it would make him feel better, not that it would do any good.

“Well, I got some assignments to catch up on, I guess I’ll see you after lunch.” Stiles mentally cursed at the confused puppy look Scott gave at the obvious lie.

However when Stiles tried to veer off to the library for lunch a decidedly feminine arm linked with his. "Where do you think you're going, cutie? Didn't Cora-belle tell you that you're sitting with us today?"

The smile on Erica's face was positively feline despite her being a werewolf. 

"Cora... Belle?" Stiles asked, eyes narrowing as Erica grinned wider.

"I wouldn't say that too loud if I were you," great, now Isaac was making his way over while gesturing between the two of them, "either of you. She'll skin you both."

The other teen werewolf was taller than all of them, lanky in build with dark blonde curls atop his head. Isaac wore a snarky grin on his face, even as he moved to help neatly box Stiles in between himself, Erica, and Scott. Not that it worried him or anything… 

"Oh please, Cora-belle loves me," Erica sing-songed.

With a snort, Scott said, "I wouldn't count on that saving me if I were you."

Stiles just stared at the trio wondering just what in the hell he was getting into. Oh well, it wasn't as if he had a say in it at this point.

* * *

Stiles sat down with his tray of sub par school food at his new table. On his right was Scott and on his left was Boyd, who he had only met a few times. Cora was directly across from him, with Erica across from Boyd and Isaac across from Scott.

“So, this should be fun,” Stiles absolutely did NOT flinch at the sound of Peter’s voice right behind him. Although judging from the deep frown Cora gave him from across the table he probably did.

“You okay, Stiles? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” It was a flippant comment thrown out by a well meaning Scott, but he really had no idea.

Peter, on the other hand, had no compunctions about throwing his head back and laughing… loudly. “Oh Scotty! Sweet, simple Scotty how right you are!” The spirit walked over to where Scott was sitting and put an arm around the beta’s shoulders causing him to shiver.

“It DOES look like Stiles has seen a ghost, doesn’t it?” 

Words could not describe how irritated Stiles was with Peter as he glared at the werewolf spirit. It was only when Scott cleared his throat that he realized it looked like he was glaring at Scott because no one else could see Peter. The teen flushed and darted his gaze away as the asshole spirit grinned mischievously.

“So,” Erica began in an obvious effort to diffuse the tension, “where are you from, Stiles?”

“Boston.”

“Did you really move cross country just for your dad to be sheriff? Here?” The question seemed innocent enough, but the tone of disbelief coupled with Cora’s intense frown made Stiles bristle. 

“Uh, what Cora means is-”

“Our reasons for moving are absolutely none of your business,” Stiles remarked coolly, staring hard at Cora while eating a french fry.

The beta narrowed her eyes at Stiles before nodding and going back to her lunch, clearly done with talking for the moment. The rest of the table shot the two of them varying degrees of wary looks, but continued eating lunch.

Stiles picked up his burger but paused as he was about to take a bite when he heard a slow clap. Closing his eyes, shoulders drooping in defeat he accepted that Peter was going to make this even more miserable and awkward than it had to be. 

“Bravo, Stiles. That was a glare easily worthy of a Hale.” Opening an eye, he glared at the wolf over Cora’s shoulder. “I mean, really, I must be wearing off on you. And good on you, not giving into my bratty little niece. Her mother really ought to teach her how to talk to people.”

* * *

The rest of lunch was occupied by some idle chatter and companionable silence. Just as Stiles was getting up to throw the remainder of his lunch away before the bell when he felt a powerful charge in the air.

Turning towards towards the power he sensed, the teen caught sight of the beautiful strawberry blonde hair of the prettiest girl he'd seen in a while. He could tell she was something supernatural, probably a banshee from the type of energy she was giving off. The teen was brought out of his reverie by a snort from behind him. 

"Yeah, I wouldn't get my hopes up for Lydia Martin if I was you."

Erica leaned over with a grin before pointing between Scott and Isaac. "These two knuckleheads have been pining over her bestie, Allison Argent since she started school here at the end of last year."

As if on cue, both Isaac and Scott sighed dreamily while staring at the Argent girl before glaring at each other. In this case he supposed the idiom “bros before hoes” was an ideology rather than a code to live by. 

Before things could get ugly between the two overgrown puppies, Cora popped both of them over the head. “None of that matters because even if Argent did notice either of you it’s not like she would date you.”

Stiles almost got offended on their behalf before it dawned on him just where he’d heard the name Argent from. The Argents were an old hunter family that traveled from place to place exterminating supernaturals that harmed humans. Everything about them was archaic and SCREAMED fanatic right down to their code of honor. _Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent_ , we hunt those who hunt us. Yeah, on second thought maybe Cora’s sentiment wasn’t all that harsh.

“Really, I’m surprised that you’ve even lived this long if you’re so taken by a pretty face that you forget who it belongs to,” Peter seemed to be addressing Scott and Isaac, not that they could hear him, though he was staring off into the distance.

With a distant glassy eyed look the wolf spirit simply said, “you’ll forgive me if I run off a bit early, won’t you Stiles?” He didn’t wait for a reply, not that he would’ve gotten one in public, before fading away. Stiles just rolled his eyes at the melodrama of it.

“Yeah, I’ve seen girls like her at back at my old school… don’t worry, I know better then to get my hopes up.”

Cora grunted in affirmation as the bell rang, signaling an end to lunch.

* * *

When the last bell of the day rang, Stiles almost headed to the jeep before remembering with a groan that he had detention. Well, maybe Peter would choose then to show back up and keep him company? Whatever he had that was so important to do had kept him busy for the remainder of school, which was a blessing but would also leave him bored as hell during detention.

Adjusting his backpack, Stiles walked into Harris’ classroom, after putting away his books in his locker, just as the last period was leaving. Lydia was among the throng of students pouring out of the chemistry class, though she barely spared Stiles the most cursory of glances as she exited. Stiles wondered if she even knew what she was, after all banshees were the most like humans and could go decades without realizing their true potential.

Once the classroom was empty, Harris gestured to a desk front saying, “have a seat,” in the same tone Chris Hansen would use with pedophiles on “To Catch a Predator”.

To the man’s credit, he waited a full twenty minutes in silence before standing and closing the door, but not just closing the door actually tracing a sigil onto it. By the time Stiles realized what Harris was doing, a veil had enclosed the classroom, and a glowing ward appeared on the door. 

“What the-”

The rest of the sentence died in his throat as Harris turned towards him, his eyes looking feline before the man casually walked towards his desk and took a seat. “Mr. Stilinski,” the man said in a dual toned voice before it and his eyes returned to normal, “I believe it is time that you and I had a little chat.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a very Peter-centric chapter.

Peter wasn’t sure what to think of Stiles half the time. During his tenure as a spirit, the teen was the first person able to see him.

Well, Peter suspects that certain others such as his sister’s probable emissary, have at the very least sensed him, but Stiles is the first to actually acknowledge him. Despite the teen’s initial hesitance to helping Peter out, he was proving to be a valuable asset.

Stiles was employed by Dr. Deaton, therefore giving him access to any potential information the man might have. 

The fact that he just so happened to attract the attention of Peter’s family could be problematic, but only time would tell. After all, until Peter knew exactly how to get back into his body, his family being involved would only mess things up.

No. The timing had to be perfect.

* * *

The wolf spirit sat outside of Deaton’s clinic, perched on the hood of his sister’s car, as he waited for her to come out. He could try to strain to hear them inside, but it would be useless, as the wards prevented him from being able to hear them as well as go inside.

It seemed as though Talia had been in the vet’s clinic for hours, or had it been minutes? His concept of time was not what it used to be before he was reduced to his less than corporeal state.

Peter shook himself out of what was sure to turn into dazed reverie as Talia made her way out of the clinic. She had certainly aged well, growing into her alpha status quite nicely. The way she stood, tall and proud, almost regal in a way her heir never had. 

His elder sister heaved a heavy sigh as she made her way towards her car, stopping only when Deaton put a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“We’ll find him, Talia. I truly believe this boy is the key.”

The alpha met the vet’s eyes before giving a sad smile. As much as Peter loathed his sister at times, he hated seeing that look on her face. Regardless of whether or not they saw eye to eye, she was still his big sister.

“For Peter’s sake, I hope you’re right, Alan.”

When Talia looked up, Peter could’ve sworn she saw him. It was unnerving how she managed to make eye contact with him, without even realizing it. Or perhaps she did realize it.

With a sigh, the wolf let himself phase through the car and into the passenger seat. From time to time he enjoyed following his sister around as she did her errands. It gave him a sense of peace.

It almost felt… normal.

* * *

Peter pursed his lips and rolled his eyes as Talia continued to argue with her husband, James. He might've found it uncomfortable to listen to them argue about him, but he had heard them rehash this argument so many times that at this point it was just... Disappointing?

Honestly, of all the things they could be arguing about, such as James horrendous taste in wall art or that hideous rug Talia purchased last week, they chose to bicker about him.

The argument was so tired at this point that Peter had it memorized. Verbatim.

"I knew that he's your brother, Talia," Peter and James said at the same time, "but at some point you have to move on." Peter sounded flat, while his brother in law sounded exasperated.

"I can't give up, James you know that."

Peter rolled his eyes at how determined his sister looked. "You know, Talia, he has a point," Peter interjected. It wasn't like either of them could hear him anyway.

With a world weary sigh, her husband continued in a more gentle tone, "I know. I... But how many more false leads and dead ends will it take before you..." 

James trailed off, as if unsure how to finish his question.

Peter would be lying if he said he didn't get at least a little vindictive pleasure out of watching how much his "death" was eating at his family. And make no mistake, it wasn't just his sister who was affected. Her reaction was just the strongest.

Talia's lips thinned into an expression of grim determination. "What happened to Peter was my fault, James. All of it."

Peter raised a brow at his sister, while her husband let out a noise of displeasure.

"You can't possibly blame yourself for how he die-"

"Not just that, although I certainly accept my part of that blame, I mean everything. Maybe if I had paid more attention to the signs when he was growing up I could..."

Just like that she was wrapped in her husband's embrace. The sickly sweet display of affection lasted longer than Peter cared for before James finally pulled back cupping his wife's face in his hands.

"Now you listen to me, Talia, and you listen good. No matter what you seem to think, you are not at fault for how Peter turned out, and have no responsibility for his actions. Peter's actions were his own, and frankly I think he would be insulted with you trying to take credit for them."

Peter inclined his head in agreement with his brother in law.

The beta left his sister's house as the two went from having a moment to something a little more... intimate. Ghost or not, Peter had no desire to see his sister or her husband engaged in such activities.

* * *

After dealing with his sister and her savior complex, Peter decided that he wanted to relax before Stiles was done with school for the day, and he knew just the place.

Peter was silent as walked down the gravel path, no crunch of rocks beneath his shoes, no breath leaving his lungs. Just silence. It was one of things that unnerved him most about his predicament from the very beginning. One of the things that still unnerved him to this day.

When Peter reached his destination, he just stared.

Here lies  
Peter Hale  
Beloved brother and uncle

Of course his body wasn't really buried beneath the smooth stone placard on the Hale plot, but he had been missing for so long. It would've looked strange if Talia hadn't done something to memorialize him. 

With a sigh, the wolf spirit sat down on his plot and leaned against his headstone, closing his eyes. Though he hated the place, there was something to be said for how peaceful cemeteries were.

Cracking an eye open, Peter glanced over at his "neighbour," a crotchety old shade who never had anything nice to say about anything. The world war 2 soldier just continued frowning at Peter. The wolf let out an exasperated sigh.

"What do you want, sergeant?" 

"It's lieutenant you arrogant son of a bitch!"

Peter rolled his eyes because they had this conversation every time before making a "go on" gesture with his hand.

"It ain't natural, walking around in the daytime like you do. None of the rest of us can-"

"Because everything about me," the beta spirit let his eyes flash yellow, "is so natural."

Peter laughed at how honestly affronted the shade looked. While shades couldn't walk around in the daytime, they pretty much dissolved if they tried, spirits could roam freely. The wolf spirit always figured it had something to do with their unique essence. After all, a shade was merely an imprint of the person while a spirit actually was the person.

Peter ignored the shade's continued squabbling in favor remembering. Ghosts couldn't actually sleep, but they could reminisce; relive scenes from their life with a clarity only granted by death. Well, a death like coma in Peter's case.

* * *

Peter growled as he kicked at the dirt with his scuffed up converse as he tried in vain to remember where the root cellar was located. It was an odd feeling when a memory was taken by an alpha. It wasn’t as though he had forgotten it, no he could feel the jagged edges of his subconscious where the there was now a gaping hole in his thoughts. The memory just… gone.

Things with young Paige and his darling nephew hadn’t gone as he’d planned, after all bite rejection was so rare it didn’t bear much consideration, and now she was gone. She was gone and his nephew hated him, blamed him for it.

His sister didn’t say a word to him, and it was clear that despite her words of forgiveness that she would never truly forgive him. Not after the way his nephew’s, her son’s, eyes had changed after putting the girl out of her misery.

Misery that he caused due to his carelessness, his own selfishness.

The beta was brought out of his wallowing at the sound of a twig snapping, only to come face to face with his very furious looking niece. Before he could open his mouth, Laura had him slammed up against the nearest tree, growling at him nose to nose.

As much as he hated to admit it, his wolf cowered in the face of his sister’s heir, not that he showed it.

“Hello to you too, darling niece.”

The she wolf bared fangs as her growls got even deeper, apparently not appreciating Peter’s bullshit at the moment.

“How dare you, you selfish arrogant son of a bitch!”

Peter bared fangs back at Laura, because no matter how much his wolf wanted to cower, she was still his niece and he would not be forced into submission by her. Not until she was alpha, anyway, but that was a long ways away.

“You’ll have to be more specific, little Laura,” he smirked viciously as she bristled at the condescending tone coupled with the demeaning honorific, “there are quite a few things my selfish, arrogant nature could be responsible for. Which, in particular, are you referring to?”

With a snarl, Laura cocked back her fist and clocked Peter right in the jaw. The shock of it caused Peter to knock his head against the tree as he stumbled, vision blurring. Were he human, he would surely have a concussion from the force alone.

“You just couldn’t stand the fact that Derek might not be under your thumb anymore.” 

She gripped him by the shirt collar as she pressed him up against the tree, snarling when his eyes flashed yellow and not the steel cold blue of his nephew’s eyes. 

“You just couldn’t stand the fact that he might actually be happy without you.”

With one final shove, Peter sliding down against the tree until he was sitting in the dirt, his sister’s heir stepped back and turned to walk away from him. She called over her shoulder, “you’re pathetic, Peter.”

The beta heaved out a heavy sigh as he stared at his clawed hands, curling into the dirt, as her words sank in. He was pathetic, wasn’t he?

“Oh and Peter?”

Against his better judgement, he looked up at his niece and almost instantly regretted it. The look she regarded him was filled with hatred, disgust, and most of all- betrayal. The worst part was he deserved it, he deserved worse.

“Stay the hell away from Derek or I’ll rip your throat out.”

No matter how many times Peter remembered, it never dulled the pain.

* * *

Shrieks of laughter filled the air as the sound of feet crunching against the damp grass seemed to echo in the preserve.

A big black wolf chased after tiny boy with bright eyes and a carefree smile that would look out of place on him as he got older. It was one of Peter’s favorite games to play with his big sister Talia, although his niece Laura wasn’t too fond of it.

“Talia noooooo,” he yelled as she tackled him again, sending the boy into fits of giggles.

This would always remain his favorite memory as it was one of the last times he would be the little boy. A few weeks later, after all, Talia would find out she was pregnant with Derek. Once he was born, Peter would be pushed aside.

* * *

The mood was sombre; himself, his sister and her three brats were all dressed in black as they made their way to the cemetery. They did this every year on the anniversary of his parents’ death.

Well, technically his sister and her brats went and visited their parents’ graves once a month, but Peter was only forced to tag along on the actual anniversary.

He knew his apathy towards their parents bothered Talia, but the truth was he didn’t really know them. Why should he care about the people who contributed DNA to him any more than someone who was adopted?

“Are you ready, kids? Peter?”

It always irritated Peter how Talia always singled him out from her own children, how she went through painstaking lengths to do so. Nevertheless he gave his sister an appropriately sad smile along with a curt nod.

“Yes mom, we’re ready,” Laura said as she made her way down the stairs with Derek in tow. His niece looked more and more like her mother every day, and wore the same look of cold disdain towards him that she had since the “mishap” with Derek’s girlfriend.

Derek just kept his head down like a good little beta, the near permanent scowl on his face as he glared at the floor.

As remorseful as Peter tried to act, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of vicious satisfaction at his nephew’s almost constant moodiness. He liked the fact that Derek wasn’t the happy go lucky “golden child”. He enjoyed the fact that his nephew was just as miserable as he was.

If that meant that he had to endure his niece’s hateful glares and his sister’s insufferable looks of pity then so be it. He could live with that much better than the false kindness and begrudging acceptance.

The ride to the cemetery was spent in relatively companionable silence, that was only slightly hostile because of Laura. Of course Peter’s snide smirks didn’t exactly improve her attitude towards him, not that Talia said anything to either of them.

These days his sister seemed to prefer hostile silence to the spiteful bickering and occasional brawling the two had taken to doing.

As they approached the graves, Laura seemed to take great pains to ensure that Peter couldn’t even walk next to Derek causing the beta to roll his eyes. It’s like she thought Peter would somehow abscond with the boy.

The Hale plot was large, but he knew exactly where to go to find them. William and Carla Hale, his and Talia’s parents, had a simple shared plaque. The script was elegant on the dark stone with only their names and date of birth and death. 

Underneath his mother’s side was, “moon of my life,” while under his father’s side was, “my sun and stars”.

When Peter had asked Talia why those particular phrases were chosen she said they were terms of endearment their parents had used for each other. He wished he could remember his parents, remember a love as great as theirs.

He wasn’t treated to memories of their life, however, only of their sombre death.

* * *

The warm pillowy feeling of sand squishing beneath his toes as he walked along the the beach was one of Peter’s favorite things. That and the smell salt, the way he could taste it in the air especially on a crisp afternoon just as the sun was beginning to set. 

It helped him clear his mind.

When the tension in his sister’s house became too unbearable, Peter would always take a trip here. Sometimes he would walk for hours, sometimes he would just stand where the water met the sand and let it barely kiss his toes.

Today he standing closer, letting the water wash over his ankles as he gazed out to where the sun was beginning to set on the horizon.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

For all the wolf was startled out of his reverie, he barely cast his unwanted intruder an annoyed glance. 

The woman he hadn’t noticed approaching until she was standing beside him, cut quite the imposing figure. She wasn’t very tall but stood in a statuesque, almost regal way. Her long dark hair fell nearly to her waist, complimenting her smooth caramel colored skin. Her face was strong and stoic. 

Mostly, he recognized the power that lay beneath acting like a layer of electricity that blanketed her skin, reaching out to him. Casually sniffing, he could smell the hint of ozone in the air that surrounded all beings who possessed magic.

Peter let out an agreeable noise, but made no other move to speak. He came here to think, not speak to some strange woman who set his wolf on edge.

The woman huffed what could’ve been a laugh, although he didn’t look to see. 

“I must say, I expected more sass from you, Peter Hale.”

The beta could feel his eyes shift and his claws threaten to extend as he braced himself against the weight of her power. His bones seemed to rattle as his muscles clenched against the raw force that seemed to be trying to crush him from the inside out. His breath was coming out in pants as his lungs seemed to constrict impossibly tight. Just when he felt as though he would collapse under the weight, it lifted. 

Peter let out a gasp as he put his hands on his knees while doubled over trying to catch his breath again. Before he could stop himself, he growled at the woman who remained unfazed.

Names were important to creatures of magic, and that someone of her caliber knew his was not a good thing.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Miss…”

The woman’s lip tilted up in a half smile as he turned to her. With a tilt of her head she answered, “you may call me Marin.”

He had no doubt that this was a pseudonym, as no self respecting magical creature would ever give out their Name. Names had power, especially over powerful magical beings.

“Well, Miss Marin,” the beta practically purred as he stood upright, “to what do I owe the pleasure of this… impromptu meeting.” His tone was intentionally light, face a mask of cold indifference although he couldn’t quite keep the fury from reaching his eyes.

Marin gave Peter a slow smile, closing her eyes briefly. When they opened the amber color was replaced by an alien green, with feline pupils. 

Peter quickly took care to avert his eyes lest he make eye contact with a fae. He wasn’t as well versed on fae creatures as his sister was, but even he knew better than to look one in the eyes.

“So you do know of my kind, young Peter Hale.”

“Well, seeing as I haven’t been living under a rock, I’d say so.”

The fae stayed silent long enough that Peter was beginning to think that he’d somehow managed to offend her. Just as the beta was starting to sweat, Marin let out an amused chuckle.

“Fear not pup, I’ve only come to… talk.”

Peter was quite done remembering this conversation.

* * *

With a huff, Peter dragged himself from memories of things he couldn’t change before he let himself drown in them. He had lost entire weeks to them at a time, but he could no longer afford to wallow in self pity. Not when he had someone who could help him.

The wolf spirit rolled his eyes as the military spirit continued to fuss about his abilities before leaving his grave. He had better things to do than sit atop an empty grave and gripe about things that could’ve been.

Peter had never been the sentimental type.

* * *

By the time Peter arrived back at the high school, teenagers were beginning to pile out into the parking lot. He wandered around looking for Stiles, who usually couldn’t wait until school let out and was almost always at the jeep five minutes after the final bell sounded. 

He briefly considered hiding until the teen was already in his car before scaring the shit out of him as he was prone to do from time to time, but quickly decided against it. No need to have his new toy swerve into oncoming traffic. It would be most inconvenient. 

Peter frowned when ten minutes passed and he still didn’t see Stiles in the parking lot area. With a shrug, the ghost decided to wander inside to see if the teen was caught by his family again.

“I can’t believe Harris!” Peter’s ears perked up at Scott’s voice and he quickly followed it to where the group from lunch, minus Stiles, was milling about near the library.

“I can,” the busty blonde, Erica he believed said, “Harris is a dick. Although even I never thought he would actually give someone detention for breathing too loud.”

Isaac snorted, “maybe the guy just has a hate boner for Stiles? Although why he would want to willingly put them in a situation to spend more time together is beyond me.”

His niece, Cora, just frowned hard while crossing her arms. God she looked like a miniature version of Derek when she did that.

Well, at least he knew where Stiles was now. With a sigh, Peter headed towards the chemistry teacher’s classroom. He figured the other teen would appreciate the company.

When Peter approached the classroom he was stopped short, causing him to blink.

“What the fuck?”

The spirit got as close as he could to the door, and reached out a hand to touch it before jerking it back when it sparked. His eyes widened as sigils began to glow on the door and walls. No, not sigils… _wards_.

His stomach dropped because… “Stiles…”

Peter darted through the wall of the neighboring classroom, only to find the adjacent wall to be warded as well. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He ran his hands through his hair as he tried to get in from every angle only to have his entranced blocked by more wards.

Peter was currently in the classroom to the left side of Harris’ room glaring at the wards and trying to figure out how he missed the fact that Harris was some sort of magical creature this whole damn time.

“What are you doing, Lydia?”

The redhead poked her head into the classroom, looking in the direction where Peter was as she said, “I… I thought I heard someone in here.”

Peter stilled before turning around with narrowed eyes, as Lydia’s eyes passed over him with a perplexed look on her face.

Allison poked her head in before chuckling, “there’s no one here, Lyds… come on, we’re gonna be late.”

Lydia pursed her lips before following her friend out.

Peter just turned back and continued to glare at the wards, feeling helpless and hoping Stiles was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bad for the long wait to update. I'll try to be quicker next time...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that? No update for 3 years and then a new chapter?   
> Well, I can't promise a regular schedule, however the next update will NOT take another 3 years... maybe.
> 
> Chapter dedicated to childofthedragons ... knowing there was still some interest helped motivate me to get out another chapter sooner rather than later. :)

A fucking fae. _Harris_ was a FUCKING FAE! Stiles wondered if he pissed off someone important, because ever since this move his life had been one headache after another. 

“And what exactly do we need to ‘chat’ about,” the teen asked his teacher warily.

Harris continued staring at him with alien feline eyes that seemed to change color, though Stiles knew better than to _actually_ look the fae in the eyes. Jesus, he hated his life sometimes.

“Other than the fact that you keep bringing an unwanted… _visitor_ to class?”

The Stilinski winced before he could cover it up, because it was seem that Harris knew about Peter. Then again, depending on how powerful of a fae the guy was he could probably sense all sorts of things. The thing about fae is that they were born to magic in much the same way that humans were born to breathing air. It was nothing for a fae to detect magical currents in nature and in people for that matter and a spirit just wandering around? Yeah, that would be noticeable as hell to one of their kind.

“Somehow I seriously doubt you went through all this trouble just to complain about an extra student.” 

Stiles did not miss or particularly like the way that Harris face twisted into a slightly manic looking smile. It just looked so out of place on the teacher who hated him so much.

“Perhaps if he were just another student. However, we both know that is not the case now don’t we?”

The chemistry teacher made his way closer to Stiles, the temperature of the room seeming to drop with each step. The teen would have thought he was imagining things if it weren’t for the fact that his breath seemed to be coming out in white plumes now. So not only was Harris a fae, but it appeared he was a winter court one. Well that would explain the dickish attitude at the very least. From his earlier research, those of the winter court were the most cruel and were likely responsible for what happened to Peter.

“So it would seem,” Stiles said while carefully maintaining his distance. The teen might not have much experience with faeries, but that didn’t mean he was completely ignorant of his predicament.

“So it would seem,” Harris agreed. “Now that we are on the same page, perhaps you would benefit best from… _banishing_ certain pesky little interlopers?”

The teen’s mouth dropped open as he responded out of reflex, “absolutely not!” 

No matter how much Peter pissed him off, he could never do something so cruel to a person, despite said person’s less than living status. This didn’t seem to be what Harris wanted to hear as his face morphed into a disapproving frown.

“I have ways of being very persuasive that have nothing to do with my nature,” and boy if that wasn’t the truth. Harris could fail his ass in chemistry, just as surely as he could use Stiles name against him.

However, Stiles steeled himself and said, “if you were going to resort to such drastic measures, you would have done so… which means for some reason you can’t. Tell me, who exactly is it that wants me to banish Peter?”

Harris clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “you ask who, when you should be asking why?”

With narrowed eyes Stiles asked, “why does an insignificant spirit like Peter matter to you?”

“It is not for my sake that the pup’s soul is displaced, but rather for the town’s sake. For his _family’s_ sake. A bargain was made, and the pup was the price… even pups can be wiley and hard to pin down, however,” the teacher finished with a smirk.

“What the hell does even mean?”

“Language, Mr. Stilinski. Unless you want to stay here longer.”

Hell to the fuck no did he want to stay with Harris any longer than he absolutely had to. _Especially_ now that he knew what the man was.

“Jesus, first the vet and now fae… I just can’t get a break,” Stiles muttered under his breath missing how Harris’ eyes lit up at the mention of Deaton.

“Ah yes. The ‘vet’. It seems almost too easy to trust such a person… though that in and of itself makes such a person seem less trustworthy. Such is the conundrum mortals have to deal with.”

Just as he was going to ask what in the ever loving fuck that meant, the room went dark and Harris was gone. Stiles looked over at the outside window to see that the sun had already set and cursed his bad luck as he went over to the door, which thankfully no longer had active wards up. 

Stiles jumped when he damn near ran into Peter on his way out shouting, “Jesus! Don’t do that!”

“What happened?” The beta demanded as he glided past the other teen and looked around the suspiciously empty room.

“I had detention,” Stiles deadpanned, “you should know because you were there when my dick teacher gave it to me.”

“You had detention,” the spirit said slowly, “for four hours,” Stiles nodded, “with no teacher. And warded doors.”

“What can I say? Some teachers are really serious about making sure you don’t duck out early,” the teen snarked. He was tired and cranky and not in the mood for dealing with Peter Hale’s bossiness.

“Well then, I’m sure your father will _love_ that explanation,” the ghost sassed back, “seeing as he got off early tonight.”

Stiles glared at the ghost as he swore because he really didn’t have time to get grounded by his dad today.

* * *

“Detention.” The sheriff drolled, hands resting on his hips as he stared down his teenage son.

Stiles gave his father an easy smile as he said, “yep,” with a pop at the end.

“For four hours.”

The teen’s smile faltered when he heard a phantom laughter from his right, though he couldn’t glare or tell Peter to knock it the hell off with his father standing right there. Sometimes he really hated the fact that he could see ghosts.

“Uh huh.”

When the sheriff crossed his arms, Stiles winced a bit because that always meant he was getting serious.

“For breathing too loud.”

Stiles gave a goofy grin and said, “well you always did say I had a knack for bringing out the best in people-”

“Damnit Stiles, this is serious! Do you actually expect me to believe that a teacher gave you detention for breathing?”

“But-”

“No buts son. And while we’re at it, no trips anywhere other than school and your job, and no hanging out with Scott or anyone else for that matter for the next two weeks.”

“Two weeks,” Stiles whined, “but daaaaad!”

“Don’t but dad me. We’ve been over this before. If you can’t be honest with me, then I can’t be lenient with you.”

Stiles grumbled but didn’t say anything else. He knew that of all people, his dad would understand and actually listen to him if he explained what was going on. However, he wanted to keep his dad as far away from the supernatural as possible and if that meant being grounded then so be it.

* * *

“So how much do you know about Dr. Deaton?” He asked Peter out of the blue getting nothing in response aside from a raised eyebrow. “I mean, I know you said that you _think_ he might be your pack’s emissary, but what else do you know about him?”

“Honestly? Nothing that you don’t… not really.” The beta ghost said with a shrug before sitting on the bed. “He’s magical, that much is obvious by the wards-”

“Wait, wards? What wards?” 

Stiles was visibly startled by the information, though Peter in typical “Peter” fashion just stared at him like he was slow. 

“The wards that keep me from entering his clinic,” the spirit stated slowly as though he were talking to an idiot.

“What the- Why in the hell is this the first _I’m_ hearing of this?” Stiles complained while crossing his arms. The more Peter looked at the teen in disbelief, the more pissy his facial expression got. Finally the spirit waved his hand dismissively.

“I figured you knew already. After all, it’s not like I’ve ever come to visit you while you work at the clinic.”

Stiles flailed his hands wildly, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “How in the hell would I know that?! It’s not like I’ve ever seen him put up any wards!”

“Aren’t you supposed be able to _sense_ that sort of thing?” Peter raised a condescending eyebrow at the teen. “Honestly, what kind of magic user are you if you can’t even sense wards as _obvious_ as Deatons? It’s not like he was hiding them.”

“One: I’m not a magic user, I’m an _ectomancer_. I see spirits and shades, help them pass on and _occasionally_ banish the more troublesome ones-”

“Honestly, Stiles you’re just splitting hairs at this point-”

“And two,” he shouted over Peter, “someone as powerful as Deaton could hide his wards from someone with as little magical ability as me.”

Peter and Stiles stared at each other for a moment, the beta spirit clearly not agreeing with Stiles in the slightest. Just as Stiles opened his mouth to say something there was a knock on the bedroom door that caused them both to jump.

“Everything okay in there Stiles?” The sheriff called out before opening the door, “I better not find Scott in there.”

Stiles nearly laughed at the outright offended look on Peter’s face that anyone could ever possibly mistake his presence for Scott’s.

“How would Scott have even gotten in here?” Stiles asked while his father just crossed his arms and stared down his son, eyebrow raising slightly. “Oh my god dad! No one,” alive, “is in here! Would you like me to give you the grand tour so you can double check?”

“Don’t push your luck, son. I can remind you what life was like before you got your own car.”

Stiles let out an aggravated sigh but nodded and muttered out an insincere apology while his father muttered about ungrateful brats. The teen waited until he heard his father’s footsteps retreating down the hall before glaring at Peter.

“Asshole, you’re going to get me in trouble.”

He threw a pillow at Peter. The pillow went through Peter… and hit his computer desk, knocking all of his school work off of it. The spirit laughed as the sheriff yelled something about extending the punishment before phasing through the wall and leaving. Stiles fell back against his bed and groaned hating every life decision that lead him to this exact moment.

* * *

Stiles woke up from a dead sleep gasping for air not quite remembering the dream he was just having and yet feeling an intense, visceral terror all the same. It took the teen a moment to wake up enough to gather his wits about him and realize that he wasn’t in his bed. Stiles was sitting on the floor holding the book Deaton had given him earlier in his lap.

“What the hell?”

He ran his fingers over the soft worn leather with a frown. In his experience, books didn’t randomly call out to someone for no reason at all. Depending on his luck, this could be either be his lucky break to figuring out how to help Peter, or something very very bad.

With a sigh, Stiles opened the book and blinked.

“Guess it would be easier to read this if I turned on the light.”

The teen groggily shuffled over to his desk, set the open book down and turned on the lamp. He groaned at the text because _of course_ it was in some strange language. Maybe Russian or some older coded variant?

Stiles cracked his neck and booted up his laptop, because there was no way he would be getting any sleep until he was able to figure out just _why_ this book had called to him. In order to figure that out, he first had to figure out how to read this damn thing.

* * *

“Someone’s awfully grouchy this morning,” Peter said suddenly appearing next to Stiles in the passenger seat of the jeep just as he parked at the school. The beta smirked when he was rewarded with a flinch that caused the other teen to bump his head against the roof of the car.

“Goddamnit! What did I say about popping out of nowhere, you giant dead jerk!”

“You wound me Stiles,” the spirit said putting a hand over his heart dramatically, “I’m only mostly dead.”

The Stilinski grumbled while rubbing his head before reaching into the backseat and grabbing his bookbag. He was resolutely not paying attention to his ghostly shadow as he walked into the front door, until he felt a tingle on his right wrist. He looked down and saw Peter’s translucent hand.

“We’ve got company.”

Barely a second later, Scott’s arm was around his shoulder as the other teen said, “okay so how bad was it?”

“How bad was what?” Stiles blinked genuinely confused.

“Come on, you were in detention. With Harris. For _hours_! What did he even have you do?”

Oh. Detention. Huh, it was funny to think that he had just been in detention yesterday evening and yet it already seemed so long ago.

“It sucked major ass,” Stiles agreed before neatly sidestepping the question about what he was required to do by adding, “the worst part is that my dad found out and now I’m grounded.”

“Seriously?” Scott had the saddest looking sympathetic puppy face. “Aw man, that blows! Well… then I guess that answers that…” 

Stiles looked over at the teen beta questioningly.

“Oh! I was going to ask if you wanted to come hang out with us after school but I guess…”

“That being grounded would interfere with that? You would be correct. For the next two weeks it’s only school, work and home for me.” 

“It’s probably for the best,” Peter’s voice said right next to Stiles ear. The teen didn’t flinch, but it was a near thing. “After all, where that puppy goes, my sister’s brats are sure to be. The last thing we need to deal with is them mucking things up.”

Stiles glared at Peter as the ghost made his way to stand next to Scott causing him to wince in sympathy, misinterpreting his friend’s glare. “It’ll be okay Stiles, it’s only two weeks! We can totally hang out after.”

Focusing back on Scott, Stiles awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and agreed, “yeah. Totally.”

* * *

It took a little bit of maneuvering but Stiles was able to avoid Scott, Cora and the other betas at lunch time. Once he was certain that they weren’t going to come looking for him, he made his way into the library to see if he could make any headway with the book from Deaton. He didn’t exactly mean to keep what he was doing from Peter, but when the spirit decided to fuck off to god knows where, it wasn’t like Stiles was going to put his research on hold.

Just because this was a school library, didn’t mean that it wouldn’t have what he was looking for.

* * *

After spending all of lunch in the library to no avail and most of his study hall period, Stiles was beginning to rethink his assessment. He banged his head on the table in frustration with the open book in front of him.

“It’s hopeless,” he said to no one, “why did I think I could figure out what language this was?”

“Coptic.”

Stiles head popped up and immediately swiveled to his right to see none other than Lydia Martin standing right behind him peering over his shoulder at the book. It wasn’t like he was in plain view, even though it wasn’t large or particularly well hidden there was still a supernatural branch in the school library. There was no way a vanilla mortal would just wander back there by mistake, a banshee on the other hand… 

“Beg pardon?”

“The language in the book you have. It’s Coptic. A version of the Egyptian language with a written alphabet based off of ancient greek.”

The redhead looked at the book with casual disinterest, her tone bored as though she were discussing something as mundane as the weather. However, Stiles could see her leaning in towards it ever so slightly. It seemed that the book was calling to her as well. The fact that someone else sensitive to death was being called by the book only solidified his theory that somewhere in this damn thing was something that would help him with the Peter situation.

“Really? You can tell that just by looking at it?” The level of contempt on her face was equal to that of Peter when he felt insulted. The beta would be proud. “I mean, it’s just that I’ve been trying to figure out what it could be all period…”

“It is a dead language. I’m not surprised you didn’t immediately recognize it.” 

Lydia then pulled up a chair beside him and set her purse down before reaching in and grabbing a pen and some paper.

“Do you have your laptop…” She looked at him expectantly.

“Uh yeah sure… I’m Stiles by the way.”

“Lydia,” was all she said in response. The read head continued to stare at him, causing a flush to creep up his neck before she rolled her eyes. “Well? Are you going to take your laptop out?”

“Oh shit- yeah, sorry. Yeah let me get it.”

The teen flailed a bit as he pulled his laptop from his bag and set it down on the table. Lydia waited patiently for him to boot everything up before scooting closer to him and taking the computer. She typed for a bit before pulling up a page with the language mentioned and it clicked that she was helping him.

“It will be a slow going process to translate the whole book,” Lydia stated, “but we might be able to get the first chapter or at least part of if translated by the end of the period.”

Once she got everything set up, Stiles and Lydia began the painstaking process of trying to translate text written in a dead language to something vaguely understandable in english. It took them a good five minutes just to get the title translated and they weren’t one hundred percent sure that they had it correct.

_Twin Souls Bathed in Moonlight_

Great, so he was stuck translating some cryptic werewolf book from a dead language with a banshee who probably didn’t know what she was.

“This should be fun.”


	4. Chapter 4

The next two weeks seemed to pass without much fanfare, although Stiles dad seems pleasantly surprised that he is taking being grounded seriously. The teen tries not to be too offended by it, especially when Peter makes remarks about how he should have snuck out a few times because even his father expected it. 

However, an unexpected bonus he got out of the whole experience would be two new friends in the form of Lydia and Allison. After that first day in the Library, Lydia began meeting up with him every day to dutifully help translate the strange book. 

After the third day, Allison started joining them and often brought lunch for all three. It was strangely companionable in a way that he wasn’t entirely used to.

The first week they had managed to get enough of the first chapter translated that he was beginning to be able to decipher some of the story. By the end of the second week, they had the entire first chapter and most of the second chapter. 

One very important thing they were able to deduce is that the book wasn’t broken into chapters so much as _journal entries_.

“So,” Stiles said while chewing on the end of a pencil, “it seems like this Sebastian guy is weighing the pros and cons of ‘taking what is offered’ from the beautiful woman.”

“Not just beautiful,” Lydia corrected, “ _ethereal_ , almost otherworldly. And she’s offering him more than just a deal. The ability to be powerful enough to end the war…”

“It sounds too good to be true,” Allison finished.

Lydia nodded and Stiles remained pensive. They didn’t have enough information translated yet to figure out what exactly was going on.

“You know,” Allison said ruefully, “it almost reminds me of the old fables… the scary ones where people made deals with faeries.”

“In those old stories, it never turned out good for the human.” Stiles said grimly while Lydia nodded.

“I doubt it ended well for Sebastian here.” They all nodded at the redhead’s words, silently contemplating them.

“You know,” Lydia began while her eyes search Stiles’ face, “you never did tell me where you got this book from, or why it is you’re trying to translate it.”

“It was given to me by a friend,” Stiles smoothly answered, “I’m pretty good at research, so they figured if anyone could figure out the language and make heads or tails of it, it would be me…”

Lydia pursed her lips like she didn’t quite believe him but before she could grill him he was, quite literally, saved by the bell. 

Changing the subject as they packed their bags, Allison asked, “hey are you still grounded? I feel like that should be ending soon.”

“Tonight’s the last night, then I’ll be a free man.”

“Good, then tomorrow you can come shopping with Allison and I,” Lydia interjected as the trio made their way into the hall, “there’s a dance coming up next month and we need to get a headstart on finding something to wear.”

“Wha-” Stiles blinked, stopping momentarily before scrambling to catch up to the girls. “I mean, not that I don’t want to hang out outside of school, but I am the _last_ person that you want an opinion on clothing from.”

“Isn’t that the sad, god honest truth,” Peter snarked from where he suddenly appeared out of nowhere to Stiles right. The teen flinched hard and almost toppled over before he was casually righted by Allison’s steady hand. The girls hardly batted an eye. They were getting used to his weirdness.

“Oh honey,” Allison said sympathetically, “we’re bringing _you_ clothes shopping.”

Stiles blinked and looked back and forth between Allison and Lydia like they were speaking a foreign language. “... why?”

“The real question is why not sooner,” Peter muttered.

“Since you’re going as Allison’s date, we need to make you look presentable,” Lydia said nonplussed.

“I’m going. To a dance. As Allison’s date.”

“As friends,” Allison reassured him, “This way I won’t be the awkward fifth wheel to Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and… is it Ethan this time?”

“For now,” Lydia remarked.

“You don’t mind… do you?” He never stood a chance against Allison Argent’s puppy eyes.

“Of course not,” he said. It was worth it to see Allison so happy because, “after all the only thing that sucks worse than being fifth wheel is going alone.”

* * *

“I don’t trust the Argent girl,” Peter said as soon as Stiles started up the jeep to head home for the day.

“So you’ve said,” Stiles remarked dryly as this was about the hundredth time Peter had made his feelings on Allison known. “Care to share why, exactly?”

“There’s something… off about the way she smells.”

Stiles sighed as he drove home.

“I think she smells fine.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Peter glared from his spot in the passenger seat with his arms folded.

The teen rubbed a hand on his temple, feeling a headache coming on. “Well, I’m sorry Peter but you’re going to have to be a little more specific if you expect me to alienate someone that has been helping us.”

Peter scoffed, “she hasn’t been helping us, the redhead has been doing most of the legwork.”

“And Allison is Lydia’s best friend, ergo she is helping us by keeping Lydia interested in the task at hand…” or by not actively trying to dissuade Lydia from hanging out with Stiles.

Peter was still tense so Stiles relented with a sigh, “if you can give me something more concrete I will look into it.”

The beta ghost said nothing, choosing to glare at the road ahead instead. It was clear that something was bugging him, but hell if Stiles knew what went on in that head of his.

* * *

The next day at school was mostly uneventful, with the exception of the Hale pack very obviously vying for his time. In the one class he shared with Cora she glared at the person sitting in the desk next to Stiles until they moved and sat in the newly vacant spot.

After a beat of silence she said, “you haven’t been at lunch,” very flatly.

“No, I’ve been catching up on some studying in the library,” he answered back politely with a tinge of nervousness.

Off to the side, Peter clucked his tongue with disapproval at Cora’s tone.

“Hm. Maybe we’ll join you today. A few of us could use the help studying.” The tone of voice was just shy of bitchy and god she looked emotionally constipated, sitting up ramrod straight.

“I was actually going to be eating in the cafeteria today,” he said with a wince, “maybe some other time?”

She glanced over at him with an assessing glare before nodding in one jerky movement. The beta made no other attempt to talk to him.

God she was weird.

* * *

Scott was much more friendly, talking to him in chemistry before the class started.

“Man, I don’t know how you haven’t gone insane being grounded these last couple of weeks!”

Stiles shrugged while getting out his books, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve had no contact with the outside world. I was only grounded from going places but I still had my phone and laptop so it wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah you got that right, being without your phone?” Scott did an exaggerated shuddering motion, “now THAT would’ve been torture.”

“You ain’t lying,” Stiles replied.

Professor Harris walked into the room and all conversation died. Everyone still remembered the bogus detention he had given Stiles and no one really wanted to chance getting detention after that. 

Harris narrowed his eyes at Stiles disdainfully before beginning the class. Somehow he had a feeling that Harris would end up being a huge pain in the ass later on. Such was his luck.

* * *

By the time the lunch bell finally rang, Stiles had been approached by every one of the Hale wolves he shared a morning class with. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to endure their company for lunch,” Peter said, clearly coming to the same conclusions that Stiles had.

Sure enough, he could see Scott and Isaac approaching him. However, before the two teen wolves reached him, Stiles felt a hand at his elbow.

“We’re eating in the cafeteria today, right?” He turned towards Allison, who was gently guiding him towards the entrance, “I know Lydia said she needed a break from the library.”

Stiles saw the looks of open shock on Scott and Isaac’s faces before he allowed himself to be lead to the cafeteria by Allison.

“Yeah, my eyeballs are going to fall out if I have to read that book again.”

“I bet,” She said with a chuckle, “and lord knows the last thing we want is Jackson to come bother us in there like he was threatening to do.”

“Is he really _that_ bad?” Stiles asked.

“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” Allison remarked dryly.

* * *

Okay, so Jackson wasn’t that bad. Oh no, he was much, _much_ worse. From the moment Stiles sat down at their table between Lydia and Allison, the jock complained about his presence. Loudly.

“I just don’t understand why out of all the strays you could’ve taken in,” the jock’s eyes flickered to the table of werewolves aka the school misfits, “you picked _this_ loser,” Jackson said while looking at Stiles in disgust openly.

Peter snickered at the comment, because it seemed even a werewolf ghost loved a good dog joke now and again.

“And I just don’t understand why out of literally everyone in this school, you’re dating him.” Stiles snarked back.

Jackson sneered, “you think you’d be a better choice?”

“I think anyone would be a better choice,” the teen said not rising to the bait.

“Boys,” Lydia said calmly with a sharp smile. “I am quite done with this topic of discussion. Now make up and move on.”

Jackson and Stiles glared at each other and neither made up nor moved on, though they did drop the current conversation.

“Honestly,” Lydia chastised, “one would think I’m surrounded by toddlers with how you act.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Peter said with an approving nod at Lydia, “why she puts up with either of you, him especially is beyond me.”

Stiles had to bite his tongue from the knee jerk reaction to answer Peter back out loud. He had to watch himself, lest he end up in the psych ward again.

“I don’t think Stiles was being _that_ bad,” Allison said. Jackson visibly bristled at the implication that she agreed he was being exactly that bad. He knew better than to mess with Allison though as she was just as popular as himself and Lydia.

“So, are you guys excited for the game this weekend?” Danny interjected in an attempt to diffuse the tension. It worked like a charm, getting Jackson to talk about himself while giving everyone else a reprieve from engaging him in conversation.

Stiles shot Danny a grateful look, which the other teen returned a smile for.

Peter frowned at the exchange but said nothing. Whatever, Peter was weird sometimes. Hazards of being sorta dead.

* * *

“Stiles! Dude!”

Stiles was almost to the jeep when Scott’s voice called out to him. _Almost_. He turned around, and oh look Isaac was coming with him apparently.

“Heeeey buddy! What’s up?”

“Don’t buddy me,” Scott said pulling a wounded puppy face, “you’re friends with _Allison_ and you didn’t tell us?”

Isaac for his part was pretending to be disinterested, but it was clear as day to Stiles that both betas were upset with him for ‘holding out’ on them.

“It’s really a shame that I can’t enjoy popcorn,” Stiles side eyed Peter, who seemed to be taking great pleasure in all of this. “This is definitely a ‘popcorn’ situation, wouldn’t you agree Stiles?”

Bastard.

“It’s not like that guys,” the teen tried to placate, “Lydia started helping me with a project in the library and Allison decided to tag along.”

“So let me get this straight,” Isaac drawled, “you’ve been hanging out with the two most popular girls in our grade for the past two weeks and didn’t think to tell us?”

“I thought we were friends!” It was official, Scott’s puppy eyes should be illegal. A war crime even.

Peter however just barked (ha!) a laugh at the scene. “Oh yes, because I’m _sure_ Miss Argent would be fawning all over you two by now, had Stiles mentioned something.”

“Not now,” Stiles whispered.

“Not now what?” Isaac said, cocking his head to the side like a pug.

Shit. Werewolves, god he hated them sometimes! “Nothing. Now look, I have to get going or Allison and Lydia are going to skin me for being late.”

Both boys glared at him, “but if you guys happen to be in Macy’s this afternoon, shoot me a text and maybe we can all meet up?”

As planned, both of their faces brightened before Isaac tried (and failed) to play it cool. Stiles nearly laughed. Peter did laugh.

“Yeah. If we’re in the area we’ll hit you up.” Scott looked like he was about to proclaim that they would be there before Isaac elbowed him. Oh look, Scott _could_ take a hint if you smacked it into him.

* * *

“I like your new friends.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at his father, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. It just so happened to be the teen’s luck that his father was home when Lydia and Allison decided to stop at his place and critique his clothes; see: veto half of them. It was scary how Peter and Lydia had almost the same opinions, to the point where he nearly forgot that her and Allison couldn’t see him.

“Really,” Stiles drawled as he went to get himself something out of the fridge. He could see his old man’s shoulders shaking.

“They were very polite.”

“Mhmm.”

“And you know, you really do wear too much plaid-”

Stiles threw a balled up section of the paper at his dad, causing the other man to give a hearty laugh before heading up the stairs.

“I’m glad _someone_ is making you dress right,” floated up the stairs after him.

“Keep talking and it’s nothing but Kale salads for the next week!” Stiles called down the stairs. When his dad grumbled something about rabbit food, he counted it as a win.

* * *

Stiles face looked grim as Peter floated into his room from. He wiggled the phone against his ear to alert Peter to his call. “And you’re sure that will work?”

_“Nothing is ever sure, Stiles you should know that. BUT I have it on good authority that this should be able to help point you in the right direction.”_

Stiles sighed and rubbed a hand over his face before pressing again, “and you’re sure that his source is… reliable.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone.

_“He hasn’t steered me wrong yet, I don’t see why he would start now. Look, worst case scenario nothing happens and you’re in the same place you started. BEST case scenario, you actually have a viable lead.”_

“I’ll talk it over with him, weigh the risks and I’ll get back to you if it pans out.”

_“Be careful Stiles. Remember what we talked about.”_

Stiles nodded before saying, “I promise, I won’t get caught.” He had no desire to be sent to another mental health facility for his own good.

“Your contact in Chicago?” Peter questioned as Stiles hung up the phone.

Stiles nodded, putting the phone down on his desk before scrubbing his hands over his face with a sigh. “Yeah… he found a ritual that we can perform that might lead us to your body.”

The beta ghost perked up, eyes flashing gold in excitement before he composed himself. “And there are some risks associated, I assume?”

Stiles lips quirked up in a smirk, because Peter wasn’t fooling him. “Weeeell, the ritual has to be done at night, midnight to be exact, which makes sense because it is when Spirits are at their most powerful. It’s also when the veil between both worlds is thinnest.”

The beta pursed his lips and asked, “but?”

“Perceptive as always. It has to be done with an article of yours or at a place you are attached to. The most common place do these types of rituals…”

“Would be at the deceased or nearly deceased’ grave,” Peter finished.

Stiles nodded grimly. Peter had told him before that the Hale pack regularly patrolled the area around his grave, something the alpha insisted on. This would definitely complicate things a little.

“Our best shot will be on the full moon,” Peter said with a nod.

Stiles’ head shot up, “are you insane?! Oh yeah, send the fleshy human to potentially piss off the local werewolf pack on the eve _that they’re most powerful_! That makes a ton of sense.” 

Peter was not amused if his supremely unimpressed expression was anything to go by.

“Isaac and Erica have convinced my sister to give the bite to their friend, a lonely boy… something Boyd,” he said waving a hand. “The evening before the next full moon is when she will administer the bite and as custom dictates, all of the pack will have to be present the following evening.”

It was a big deal and despite how religiously his sister had people watching his gravesite every evening, she hadn’t sent anyone there when the other three betas were turned. 

“The next full moon is tomorrow night, so that will be our best bet,” Peter said, sitting down on the bed. He could feel himself vibrating with an excitement that he hadn’t felt in years. They were so close he could almost taste it.

“If you’re sure no one from your pack will be there…”

“I’m sure.”

Stiles nodded and said, “okay then. If we want to be ready by tomorrow evening, I have a few preparations and calls to make.”

* * *

Despite the fact that Stiles could see ghosts, graveyards still gave him the absolute heebie jeebies. If anything, seeing ghosts made that feeling even worse. 

“I still can’t believe you fell off the fence,” Peter said with a smirk.

“It’s not my fault,” Stiles complained, “that little girl ghost popped out of nowhere!”

Peter gave Stiles a pitying look, “really, Stiles? Paige is about the most harmless shade in this whole place. And honestly she’s close enough to your age that calling her a little girl is inappropriate.”

“Well she looks young!” The teen hissed as he stomped alongside of Peter. It was strange to think that he hadn’t visited the beta’s grave until now.

“Well she died young so…” Peter shrugged. 

With all of the active spirits, neither of them noticed the figure following them from the shadows.

Stiles rolled his eyes, “whatever, let’s just get this over with so we can get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

Peter shook his head before giving a grand gesture before motioning to a plain headstone. “Here we are.”

“Great.”

Stiles set down his backpack and took out a piece of chalk which he used to draw a circle on the headstone around Peter’s name. He placed a necklace in the center of the circle, a pentacle pendant hung from the delicate chain.

The teen touched the circle with two fingers at four and eight while Peter’s ghostly form sat across from him with his own two fingers touching the circle and ten and two. He muttered some words in latin while pushing his will into the circle.

As he was finishing reciting the words, concentrating on finding Peter’s body, the circle began to glow. The glowing circle started shrinking until it was touching the pendant, and then the pendant glowed a bright blue before dulling down to the original dull metal. The circle was gone from the tombstone.

“Did it work?” Peter asked anxiously.

Stiles shrugged, putting the necklace on and tucking the pendant into his shirt, “I guess? This is my first time doing this too, you know.”

Peter looked pensive, but didn’t say anything as Stiles packed up his backpack and started heading towards the gate. Just as they were walking past the mausoleum, halfway to the entrance Peter tensed.

“Stiles look-”

Before he could finish the sentence a dark figure grabbed the teen lightning fast and slammed him into the wall of the mausoleum. Stiles momentarily saw stars as his head swam from the impact. 

He heard a loud growling and saw glowing blue eyes in his face, causing his heartbeat to skyrocket in his chest. A clawed hand tightly gripped his shirt.

“What,” a gravelly voice growled, “are you doing here?”

“My nephew, Derek, it appears never grew out of his dramatics,” Peter said disapprovingly.

Derek stood stock still as his eyes widened and wildly swung his head around with a stricken expression on his face, “... Peter?”


	5. Chapter 5

Peter and Stiles’ eyes widened at Derek’s statement because there was no way that the beta should have heard him. While Derek was momentarily distracted, Stiles shoved him off with an aggravated huff.

“Dude, what the hell was that for?” The teen mustered bravado that he definitely did not feel. “And who the hell is Peter?”

Seeming to gather his wits about him, Derek scowled. “You’re trespassing.”

“So? You’re trespassing too.”

Derek looked like he wanted to say something, but settled for scowling harder instead.

“Looks like he’s got you there, dear nephew… you never were the brightest one in the bunch.” Unlike last time, however, Peter’s snark went unanswered by Derek. It seemed he couldn’t hear the beta ghost this time.

“What. Were. You. Doing.” Derek gritted out one word at a time through clenched teeth. The question sounding more like a statement.

Stiles could feel his pulse jumping erratically, but that could be blamed on his nervousness at being confronted with tall, dark and not being caught performing a ritual.

“How about you tell me what _you _were doing here? Or do you just stalk and scare teenage boys for fun?”__

A laugh startled out of Peter so suddenly it almost made Stiles jump as the spirit floated behind Derek with a smirk. The teen noticed Derek’s shoulder muscles tense as the undead beta ran a ghostly hand along them.

“Yes, good. Stay on the offensive and keep Derek off balance. The sooner you can get out of here, the better. We don’t need my _darling_ nephew getting any more curious than he already is.”

Stiles agreed that they needed to get out of there post haste, because the last thing he needed was any of the Hales being more in his business. 

“My dad’s the sheriff you know, and what you did qualifies as assault which I doubt the law will look too kindly upon considering the age difference.”

“Your dad would have to know you were trespassing, which I doubt he would look to kindly upon,” the older beta sassed back, though he paled visibly at the mention of law enforcement.

“Probably not… so how about neither of us mentions this happened to anyone and we both reap the benefits of my dad not getting involved.”

The air was charged as the two stared each other down before Derek looked away and nodded once. Stiles did a happy dance internally but kept his face a stoic mask as he turned to walk back to his car. The beta however, grabbed his arm before he was out of range and said, “I will find out why you were really here.”

“You go ahead and do that, crazypants,” Stiles bitched while yanking his arm back and stalking out of the graveyard.

The teen had much less trouble climbing the fence to get out of the graveyard than he had getting in. Hell, due to the adrenaline coursing through him at being caught by a Hale, he barely noticed the other shades as he booked it out of there.

Peter was in the passenger seat of the jeep when Stiles got in on the driver’s side. It took him two shaky tries to get the key in the ignition as he started coming down from the adrenaline spike. He turned to open his mouth and saw Peter put a finger to his lips before pointing out the back window. Standing at the entrance to the graveyard, staring at the jeep was Derek with a scowl on his face.

Stiles scowled back before facing forward and throwing the jeep into drive and speeding off at a reasonable pace. After all, he wouldn’t want to get pulled over by his father while he was supposed to be at home in bed. Peter stayed tense in the passenger’s seat as they drove and so Stiles stayed silent. There was no use trying to catch the beta ghost’s attention when he was fixated like that.

Suddenly, Peter seemed to sag out of the corner of Stiles’ vision before saying, “he stopped following us, finally.”

“Jesus, was your nephew always this creepy?”

“Not always, but in recent years he has definitely developed a bit of a reclusive streak that can be interpreted as creepy.”

The teen shook his head and muttered, “maybe if he didn’t stalk people…”

* * *

“For the last time, Stiles, I doubt that Derek told anybody. After all, it’s not as if my darling sister has come sniffing around yet.”

Stiles had been in a mild panic all morning about the possibility of Derek having mentioned something to his family despite their tacit agreement. Quite frankly, it was beginning to drive Peter up the wall.

“That you’ve noticed! How can you be sure that being mostly dead hasn’t dulled your senses!” Stiles said furiously as he kept his eyes looking forward while they pulled into the parking lot for school.

Peter blinked slowly at Stiles but offered no verbal response. To be honest, Stiles didn’t really expect a response from Peter at this point.

“Look- all I’m saying is maybe you can, I don’t know… listen in on them? Make sure that he didn’t say anything.”

The ghost let out a very put upon sigh as he watched Stiles get his book bag out of the car and begin walking towards the school. Peter had already explained to Stiles that he had snooped around Derek and the others and no one spoke about him once. It didn’t matter that he explained to the teen that Derek was a recluse, even amongst his own family and that getting the boy to talk was like pulling teeth.

“Fine,” Peter said appearing next to Stiles out of nowhere causing the teen to jump, “if it means that much to you, I’ll listen in on what the others are talking about throughout the day.”

Stiles glared at the ghost who just rolled his eyes and asked, “happy?”

With a huff Stiles said, “fine,” and adjusted his backpack as they walked down the hallway.

“Right now, for instance, my darling niece and the other strays are helping young Boyd get acclimated. It would seem that my sister deemed him fit to come to school even after just being turned. Either he has impeccable control for a new wolf, or she’s getting sloppy.”

Peter knew his sister was many things, but sloppy wasn’t among them despite her unhealthy attachment to her long gone little brother.

* * *

Stiles started feeling less edgy as the day went on and none of the Hales harassed him about being at Peter’s gravesite the night before, he started to relax minutely. By chemistry he was feeling more companionable towards Scott, the two talking as they walked towards their table.

“I mean, it’s just so cool that you’re friends with _Allison_ ,” the teen wolf mooned while Stiles tried not to roll his eyes. 

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool,” Stiles said as he set his bag down on the table and settled into his spot, “I mean she does archery and martial arts, it’s pretty badass.”

If anything, that seemed to make the metaphorical hearts in Scott’s eyes get even bigger. “That’s soooo cool! Do you think you could introduce us? I mean, she’s just so perfect!”

Allison would never forgive Stiles if he set her up on a date with Scott, but maybe she would only glare at him if he introduced the two. “I don’t know man… are you gonna be all weird if I do?”

Great, now Scott turned the puppy eyes on him, “weird? Weird how?”

“You know,” Stiles wildly gestured, “weird like talking about how perfect you have observed her being from a far… it’s kind of creepy.”

He almost felt bad for telling Scott something, because now the dude had the saddest look on his face. Stiles patted Scott’s back as the other teen moaned, “oh no, I don’t want her to think I’m a creepy stalker or anything! I just want to show her how awesome I think she is… that is if she’ll give me the time of day.”

“It’s okay, Scott. You haven’t blown it yet… just maybe wait until third date before you start going on about how perfect she is, that’s all.” And if he does blow it, Allison will have no trouble putting the beta in his place.

Scott smiled sunnily at him, the change in expression and demeanor giving Stiles whiplash, before saying, “yeah… I can do that. Maybe I should ask her to the dance! You think she’ll say yes?”

“Um.” 

Uh oh.

“About that-”

Just then, Harris closed the door loudly as the bell rang. “If you are all quite done chatting, I have a surprise for you.” The chemistry teacher pulled a stack of papers from his desk. “Pop quiz.”

The entire class groaned, Scott included, as Stiles was grateful for a pop quiz for the first time in his life. He was not looking forward to Scott finding out who was taking Allison to the dance.

* * *

“Mr. Stilinski, a word.”

Stiles groaned and Scott shot him a look of sympathy as he filed out of the classroom with the rest of the students. “I’ll wait for you…”

“No it’s okay… just save me a spot at the lunch table.”

He did promise he would sit by them today, after all.

When Stiles made his way to the chemistry teacher’s desk, Harris made a point of keeping his gaze down at the papers he was grading as the last of the students filed out. 

“Close the door,” Harris said, still looking at his desk. Stiles let out a big sigh, but obliged his teacher.

Once the door was closed, the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees as the bustling of the hallways faded. A glamor shielded the room and when Harris looked up at him, the man’s eyes were yellow and feline. “It appears that instead of listening to my advice, you are intentionally poking the beehive.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” the teen said, careful not to look his teacher in the eye. 

“Don’t be purposefully obtuse, child. You deliberately went against my advice and now things have been set into motion,” the fae said matter of factly. “Things that I cannot stop.”

Stiles head jerked up and he asked warily, “... what things?”

Harris frowned deeply, “the huntress comes again. Her motives black as the night, hatred burning brightly as ever.”

The teen was ready to poke his eyeballs out because that made absolutely no sense to him. “What does that even mean?”

“Be wary child, for she does not come alone this time, nor do her enemies stay away. Power calls to power, and blood calls to blood. But whose shall be spilled in the end, I do wonder.”

The fae had a far off look as he spoke, making no more sense than before and more than once Stiles wished Peter were here when the man spoke to him in riddles. Peter was much better at figuring out this sort of thing than Stiles.

The room started to get warmer, and the sounds from the hall were returning. Stiles took this as his queue to go. Right before he opened the door, a cold hand gripped his arm tight enough to bruise before releasing him. The teen looked down at his forearm and saw the faint image of a snowflake before it disappeared. “What-”

“A mark to call upon only once. Use it wisely.” The teacher went back to grading papers and called out in a disinterested voice, “you may go now.”

Didn’t have to tell Stiles twice.

* * *

After grabbing his lunch, Stiles made his way over to the Hale pack table and sat next to Scott. He took note that Boyd was there as well.

“Dude, what did Harris want?” Scott asked with a concerned look on his face as soon as Stiles sat down.

“To make my life miserable, obviously,” Stiles said sarcastically.

“You know,” Erica said mischievously from her spot between Isaac and Boyd, “I know where he lives. We can always egg his house.”

Egg the house of a fae? “I think I’ll pass. The last thing I need is to be arrested by my father.”

The blonde laughed, but whatever she was about to say was cut off by Allison and Lydia setting their trays down, followed by Jackson and Danny.

Cora narrowed her eyes at the newcomers while Isaac and Scott were dumbfounded that THE Allison was sitting at their table.

“So, what were we laughing about?” Allison asked from her place next to Stiles, while Lydia adjusted herself in the spot across from Allison.

Isaac was the quickest to recover, “we were trying to convince Stiles to egg Mr. Harris’ house for always keeping him late after class.”

“And I was reminding them of what a terrible idea that would be, considering my father is the sheriff.”

“Besides,” Lydia interjected, “egging someone’s house is so juvenile.”

Erica bristled, but calmed when Cora put a hand on her shoulder from behind Isaac.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Allison said as her eyes sparkled with mischief, “sounds like fun. We’d just have to make sure to get our stories straight and alibi each other.”

The whole table went silent. Suddenly Erica bursted out laughing, “oh I like this one.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and soon the table fell into companionable chatter. Stiles even got to see Erica and Cora cut down Jackson a few times, which totally made his day. Of course, soon enough things turned towards talk of the dance and what everyone’s plans were.

Stiles was really hoping that he could get out of this without Isaac and Scott finding out he was taking Allison. Of course that was when Erica had to go and ask, “so, Allison you going stag to the dance too?” 

Erica liked to keep her options open, and in her opinion the best way to do so was take no date and have her pick while there. Stiles could definitely respect that.

“Actually,” Allison responded while linking arms with Stiles, “I’ve decided to take Stiles this year.”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be dead from the glare Isaac was giving him. Scott just looked so utterly stricken, it was almost comical.

“Lord only knows why, you could get someone way better looking than Stilinski,” Jackson said, eyeing Stiles disdainfully. 

“Makes more sense than Lydia lowering her standards enough to take you,” Stiles snapped back right away.

“Boys,” Lydia said calmly, “you weren’t raised by wolves, please comport yourselves accordingly.”

Stiles almost wanted to laugh at the way every wolf at the table tried not to bristle, with the exception of Cora who snorted. It seemed she, like her uncle, found humor in a well placed dog joke.

* * *

When Stiles hopped in his jeep, after expertly avoiding Isaac and Scott, he immediately noticed a certain shadow that had been missing all day. “Where have you been?”

Peter shrugged, “around. It’s not like anything interesting was going on after I confirmed the pups weren’t on your trail, so to speak.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and said, “they weren’t, but guess who was?”

He proceeded to bring Peter up to speed on everything that happened with Harris and watched as the beta frowned more and more.

“That is definitely… troublesome.”

“Any clue who he’s talking about?”

Peter just stared blankly out the windshield. “No… I need to check with a few beings that might be able to help.”

Stiles didn’t quite believe Peter, but knew better than to call the beta out when he was getting that dazed look on his face.

* * *

Stiles was humming to himself as he perused the aisles in the grocery store, ticking items off of his list. It was nice to be doing something normal after all of the ghost related baggage in his life that came courtesy of Peter.

The teen hummed to himself when suddenly he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand. It felt like he was being watched. With an air of casual disinterest, he turned around looking like he was inspecting the shelves near the end of the aisle.

Standing there, not even pretending like he wasn’t staring directly at Stiles was Derek Hale. The older werewolf didn’t even have the decency to look away when he was clearly caught staring either.

Stiles huffed and quickly finished up his shopping and left, Derek unsubtly following him through the store the entire time. So much for not having something supernatural insert itself into his day.

* * *

The incident at the grocery store, which Peter found hilarious, wasn’t too much cause to become overly suspicious. After all it was a one time incident, and it isn’t like he harassed Stiles so much as just be generally creepy.

He had mostly forgotten about it after a few days, and wasn’t thinking about it at all during his shift at the clinic with Scott.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you were taking Allison to the dance!” Scott had been harping on this tune for the past hour. “I thought we were bros!”

Stiles raised his hands in a pacifying gesture, “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, since we’re going as friends.”

Scott huffed but said, “you swear you’re just friends?”

“Dude, do you think I would try to hide it if someone as hot as Allison actually wanted to date me?” 

After mulling it over, the teen wolf said, “fair enough.”

Their shift passed amicably and soon the duo was cleaning up for the evening. The bell jingled as someone entered and Stiles shouted without looking, “we’re closed.”

“I know,” Stiles felt dread pool as he looked up and saw Derek standing there with a bitchy look on his face. “I’m Scott’s ride.”

Scott popped his head from the back, “I thought my mom was coming?”

“Her shift is running late.”

Scott gave Derek a flat look that made Stiles think he would’ve rather walked home then had Derek pick him up. “Stiles could’ve given me a ride if she would’ve called.”

“Still can,” the teen piped up from where he was sweeping, “so if you don’t wanna wait around…”

As if to punctuate his need to be contrary, Derek sat down in one of the lobby chairs in response.

“Or wait around,” Stiles finished, “that’s cool too…”

Scott eyed the front and whispered to Stiles, “isn’t he the worst?” like Derek couldn’t hear them.

“Sure seems like it,” Stiles answered back.

Stiles just made sure to finish up quickly and avoid any further contact with Derek at all costs. He didn’t need anything further complicating his life, and Derek was a big neon flashing sign of complications.

* * *

After the last two encounters with Derek, Stiles was looking around every corner as if he was convinced the werewolf would pop out of nowhere just to piss him off. Thankfully, Lydia and Allison kept him busy with preparations for Lydia’s party the week before the dance.

Peter tagged along and just proved to be a giant pain in the ass when Allison dropped the bombshell that her parents wanted to meet him. It made sense seeing as Stiles was going to be her date to the dance. Peter, however didn’t want him going anywhere near Allison’s house and it was starting to give him a major headache. Not a good thing while driving.

“It’s not safe. The Argents are hunters.”

“Allison has given me no reason not to trust her, and last I checked I’m a human. Hunters don’t bother mundane humans.”

“Except you’re not mundane,” Peter countered, “you are a… what do you call it again? An _ectomancer_ who is currently being haunted by a werewolf spirit.”

“A. you’re not haunting me, you’re a pain in my ass,” Stiles snarked, “and B. it’s not like they can or would test for that. I don’t have enough magical ability to even register. I’ll be fine.”

Before Peter could snark back who but Derek fucking Hale, would suddenly appear in front of Stiles car. The teen nearly had a heart attack as he slammed on the breaks, tapping the beta with the jeep instead of running him over.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Stiles shrieked as he got out of the car. He took in Derek’s form, and the guy did not look good at all. The werewolf was pale and shaking as he stood and stumbled into the passenger seat. “Why are you pale and why are you _in my car?!_ ”

“Hunter,” Derek panted, “need wolfsbane to make antidote.”

Peter looked over at his nephew and hissed, “he was shot with a wolfsbane bullet, probably courtesy of your Argent friends.”

“Why the hell would they shoot him now? They’ve lived here for years,” Stiles snarked back.

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Derek bitched with narrowed eyes.

“No one,” Stiles growled before continuing towards his house. “You are so damn lucky that my dad is working swing shift and napping at the station tonight.”

* * *

By the time Stiles got Derek back to his house and up to his room, the wolf was delirious and out of his mind if he thought Stiles was going to cut his damn arm off.

“Change of plans,” Peter said after a moment of contemplation, “put the necklace on Derek so that he can hear me in case he needs to. You are going to go to dinner with the friendly neighborhood hunters and pilfer a bullet.”

Stiles looked warily in Peter’s direction as he put his necklace on Derek, resolutely ignoring the older beta’s questioning glance, “and what do I need a bullet for.”

“To make the antidote of course,” Peter said. Before Derek could question his sanity Peter said, “yes dear nephew, it’s me.”

“It’s him,” Stiles said with a wary sigh.

“At the graveyard-”

“Also your annoying ass uncle,” Stiles looked at the time and swore, “okay I need to get going just… please don’t die in my room.”

Derek looked at Stiles dryly and said, “I’ll try my best not to.”

* * *

By the time Stiles arrived at the Argent house, he was a regular bundle of nerves because not only did he have a dying werewolf bleeding all over his bed, but he had to impress Allison’s parents. Her scary parents that taught her archery and martial arts.

Her father answered the door shortly after he knocked.

“You must be Stiles,” he said with a stoic expression on his face while holding out a hand.

Stiles nodded and shook his hand, “yes sir. Nice to meet you Mr. Argent.”

Mr. Argent just grunted in acknowledgement as he stepped aside to allow Stiles in. Allison’s mother, a scary looking red head, came to greet them. “Nice to finally meet you, Stiles. We’ve heard a bit about you from Allison and Lydia.”

“All good things, I hope ma’am.”

Allison came running down the stairs, “I hope they’re not scaring you too much.”

“Now Allison,” her mother chided, “it’s not very often you have a boy come over.”

“MOM!”

“We’re allowed to do the intimidating parent routine,” her father followed up with.

She gave her parents a fondly exasperated look and said, “sorry Stiles.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and said, “it’s okay.” Allison frowned when she looked at him, because it was obvious something was off, but didn’t comment on it.

“Now where is this boy who I hear is taking my darling niece to the dance?”

Stiles looked up as he saw an unfamiliar blonde woman coming down the stairs with a playful smirk on her face. She looked beautiful and dangerous at the same time and it set him on edge immediately.

“Aunt Kate, this is my friend Stiles. Stiles, this is my Aunt Kate.”

Stiles shook her hand when she met them on the ground floor, “it’s a pleasure to meet you Ms. Kate.”

“Please, just call me Kate.”

* * *

Dinner was going nicely enough, Kate paying special care to make sure that Stiles was included in the conversations along with Allison. Even her parents had started warming up to him a bit, however he couldn’t stop the antsy feeling he had from growing. Stiles needed to find that bullet and he needed to find it fast.

“Excuse me, but where is your restroom?” He said while getting up from the table.

“Use the one upstairs, down the hall to your left. We’re getting the downstairs one renovated,” Victoria said with a smile.

Stiles thanked her and headed up the stairs. At least he wouldn’t have to find an excuse for being up there.

“Kate’s room is over here,” Peter said out of nowhere causing Stiles to nearly jump out of his skin as he was walking down the hall.

The teen followed the spirit and whispered, “aren’t you supposed to be with Derek?”

Peter huffed, “he passed out. We need to get him that bullet and get it fast.” The beta chewed on his lip, “I don’t know how much longer he’ll last at this rate, and I’m certain that Kate is to blame. The timing is too coincidental.”

“Agreed.”

Stiles stepped into the room carefully and started looking around trying not to move anything he didn’t have to. The teen hadn’t been in there for long when suddenly Peter’s head popped up.

“Someone’s coming.”

Before he could hide, Allison peeked into the room, “Stiles?”

“Um.”

Shit.

“I can explain.”

The other teen crossed her arms and said, “I’m listening.”

He didn’t have time, “I can’t right now,” Allison frowned, “I- look Allison. I promise if you can help me find this bullet. This special bullet I will explain everything _later_. But you have to trust me.”

Allison narrowed her eyes and didn’t move for a beat. “There,” she said pointing to a wooden box sitting in her aunt’s duffle bag. She rummaged around for a minute and grabbed something before standing and saying, “it better be a damn good explanation.”

* * *

Stiles had no idea what Allison had grabbed from Kate’s room, but he really wished he had paid attention. Why? Because when Kate was trying to accuse Stiles of taking something from her room, rightfully so, Allison came to save the day.

“Aunt Kate, he didn’t take anything,” the teen pulled the _condom_ she swiped while managing a blush and said, “I did.”

It stopped the questioning cold as Kate snickered and Chris Argent looked like he was going to pop a blood vessel. Allison even sold it by shoving him outside and giving him a peck goodnight whispering, “damn good explanation,” against his lips before saying, “good night Stiles,” for the benefit of the rest of her family.

The teen wasted no time jumping in his jeep and heading home. With a sigh he said to Peter, “I told you she was awesome.”

“She’s not completely terrible,” Peter begrudgingly admitted. Progress.

**Author's Note:**

> Until next time...


End file.
